The Lieutenant's Gift
by Another Girl Grasping
Summary: AU, dystopian piece in which Bellatrix receives Hermione as a gift for her valued service to His Lordship. Rated for language, BDSM themes and shameless master/slave smut. This is not what I consider Dub Con, but some may see it that way, so warnings all around. Bellamione.


The Lieutenant's Gift

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters or settings, I am merely taking liberties with them for amusement.

Summary: AU, dystopian piece in which Bellatrix receives Hermione as a gift for her valued service to His Lordship. Rated for language, themes and shameless master/slave smut. This is not what I consider Dub Con, but some may see it that way, so warnings all around.

A/N: This is a One Shot, there will not be a second installment unless the muse revisits me. I am not outlining or planning one as of now. This piece is Beta'd by Greyella, so it's all her fault if you find an error. (I know, I'm a pain in the ass GE.) Also, prompted by my talented Beta/Friend. So we're blaming it all on her! Enjoy!

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Her master stood somewhere in the manor, yet to be revealed to her. Somewhere on her right she could sense the Weasleys, a group of downcast eyes, unable or unwilling to face the woman in the center of the room. The woman they'd sacrificed as a debt to His Lordship.

Perhaps she had been a foolish girl, thinking she could run to them for refuge in this new world. They were always a family to her. She spent summers and holidays with them, and thought she could trust them. She knew better now. The last person in this world that she could trust was Harry. And Harry was no longer around to be trusted.

Hermione stood, wrapped in enough leather to feel at place in a BDSM video. She looked around her — the other women and men in the center of the room, held in by magically charged bars, were not dressed this way. The collar and chains ran to her wrists, joining manacles. Coupled with all of this, wine red leather could only mean one thing.

The others were not yet owned. They were here to be auctioned. She was meant for someone. The thought didn't sit well, nor did the way Ron kept looking at her, like she was a singularly appealing meat pie. On nothing in particular she steeled her gaze to the left, away from the man to whom she'd once given her innocence. She shook the thought; that was a different life.

A sudden hush fell over the room. It spread from the doorway; everyone ceased conversation as someone passed them by. Hermione exhaled; this was what she had been waiting for. Some guest of honor. She wouldn't have been bathed and costumed so elaborately, if not to be a gift for some high-ranking official in the pureblood army.

The half-bloods who attended to Hermione warned her to be silent. Not to disobey. It was far better to be owned than to be passed around as entertainment. As would be the fate of those in this cage who were not purchased. Better one master than many. Hermione was not a stupid woman, she knew they were right. She too was of some import to warrant this treatment.

The crowds parted, but in such a way Hermione was still unable to gaze upon her soon to be owner. She could see His Lordship standing on the dais. The multitude of guests dropped to their knees, as did everyone in the cage around her. She lingered a moment, hoping her master would be standing. But when such luck was not granted, she hastily dropped to knees before anyone could note her disobedience.

"Stand guests and honor the witch of the evening!" His Lordship said, his voice filling the room. She and all in the cage remained on their knees, as was proper. Hermione dared not move her eyes from the floor, not even as her eyes widened at the revelation that her master was a woman. This was either very good or very bad. She sneaked a look up at the people on her level, not those above. Their eyes need not remain down; they were not the prize tonight. If she were to look up at the party guests, at the wrong moment, she would be subject to punishment.

The looks on their faces were mixed. Some were envious she was no longer in danger of the fate of a whore. These were the people who could not see the guest of honor. Of those who could there were looks of pity, relief, and some of spiteful jubilation. None of the expressions could mean anything good for her. She kneeled amongst the stupid and the proud. No one would have a fate any better or worse than her own. All would belong to someone or many someones, considered lower than human. Pets. Lower even than the house elves Hermione once petitioned for.

She wished she hadn't looked up. What little knowledge she had read on faces was not worth the growth of anxiety, making its home in the pit of her belly. She directed her gaze, once more, to the tile she kneeled upon.

All the while His Lordship had been making a speech about the guest of honor. Silently, Hermione cursed herself for setting sights on those as low as herself, and not listening to the words from the world above.

"... more worthy than any for the finest in our stock of human slaves. Rise 109 and meet your new master!" Hermione rose fluidly from her knees, unable to use her hands due to the chains. She had been forced to practice kneeling and rising for weeks. Her knees almost didn't protest anymore. Almost.

Finally, her overly-chalked eyes rose to meet her master. Breath caught in her throat and she forced herself to swallow down on any sound. And remain silent no matter what, unless told to speak. Or the more likely in this case; to scream. Her face gave away nothing. No displeasure, no fear. What would be the point? This was life now.

Bellatrix Lestrange was life now.

"Hello pet." Hermione's mind stalled. She couldn't answer, as she'd been given no direct permission to do so. Then she remembered. When in doubt, bow out. She bent at the waist, deferring to her superior.

"Rise." The tone was biting, as if disappointed Hermione hadn't immediately earned punishment. Hermione was going to have to be on edge constantly now and for the rest of her life. Briefly, she wondered if she would even need to do anything wrong to receive punishment. She guessed no.

As ordered, her back straightened, but she kept eyes down in respect. She realized no matter what she felt about Bellatrix Lestrange, she did respect her. Hate her though she may, the woman had earned it in battle. There was a reason His Lordship saw fit to gift his right hand witch.

Their cause had been nearly lost. That is until Bellatrix stepped out of their ranks, letting every ounce of magic flood from her body, knocking out almost half of the opposing army. The army Hermione had championed. In the end, it was a struggle between Harry and Voldemort. But the skirmishes had been led by the two women now facing one another through bars.

Subconsciously, Hermione drew her shoulders a bit more upright. She hadn't led her people to victory and this was the consequence. If she could at least spare the others in this cage from belonging to Bellatrix, that was a good start to making amends for her failure.

"You may look at me, pet." Bella teased, reaching through the bars and roughly yanking her face upward by chin. Briefly, Hermione's eyes narrowed quizzically. The bars must only be activated from the inside. She let her curiosity show for only a moment, but it was long enough.

She couldn't do anything to stop Bellatrix from pulling her forward, flush against the bars. Magic coursed through her body, like fire in veins and touching every part. It was a non-lethal pulse, causing her entire body to ache, but leaving no mark. She sank to her knees, but eyes held meeting her master's.

Well, that confirmed suspicions; she would be punished at her master's whim. No provocation needed. As she looked up at the witch Hermione began to note differences in her appearance. Bellatrix's eyes still held flashes of malice, but the madness Hermione had come to associate with her was absent. Her clothes were as outlandish as ever, yet they seemed to fall on her frame more suitably. Previously, erratic straw-like hair now fell in smooth rings. The woman was much changed.

Inwardly, Hermione shuddered to find she was pleased with the appearance of her master. How had this transformation occurred? It had been only a month since the final battle. Then she looked at herself, and wonderment ceased. A month in this post-loss world was an eternity in terms of change.

"You don't scream. Tell me why." Bellatrix demanded, her voice commanding and yet... sane.

"This is low grade pain compared to what I have experienced, mistress." Hermione replied, bowing her head and raising it again to look at Bellatrix. The fingers below her chin stroked skin absently, before pushing Hermione back away from the bars.

"You'll know high grade pain before tomorrow's dawn. How does that make you feel?" Hermione hesitated to answer. The slap was quick and sharp. Hermione tasted the metallic tang of blood and licked the wound on her lip instinctively. She watched her mistress's gaze darken.

"Excited, mistress. If it pleases you." Hermione answered. The older witch smirked, turning from her prize.

"My Lord, she is the finest gift I have ever received. You honor me beyond what is warranted. I thank you." Bellatrix gushed, bowing to her master.

"You deserve no less. Fourteen years of imprisonment. The madness of containing all of your magic, to pave the way for our victory with that magical blast. No sacrifice made has been greater." Hermione watched her master preen at the attention offered her by His Lordship. A moment's glance between the two told more than spoken word.

There was something there. Hermione's gaze sharpened. The look shared was one of fond respect. It spoke of a past; embers, not a current passion. That was a huge relief to the young slave. She did not fancy the thought of being shared.

The party continued in boring fashion. More than once a Weasley came near to the cage. During the festivities, Hermione made certain to look directly through anything ginger colored. Blood traitors though they had been, blood meant everything to those in power. To disrespect one of them would be damaging to her well-being. Her best bet was to pretend she was elsewhere.

The looks she received from those in her rank. They shifted considerably when her master was revealed to be the beautiful woman, previously trapped beneath a mask of madness. Hermione doubted any of them would pass on the opportunity to be objectified by her new owner. As it was, she couldn't help the dampening between her thighs, uncomfortable in leather. Though the scent of herself and the natural material was not altogether unpleasant.

Much wine was poured and slobbered up. Much laughter and taunting, done at the expense of those in the cage. Hermione was pleased to find that she was not the subject of the latter. Apparently, there would be a myriad of perks to being a possession of Bellatrix Lestrange.

One did not fuck with things that belonged to His Lordship's most celebrated follower.

And then guests began to excuse themselves. Those who remained were closest in rank to His Lordship. The auction was to be held. Hermione wondered if she would be subjected to witnessing the fear of being purchased, or worse still, being left unclaimed.

"Bellatrix, do you wish to watch the auction? Or would you prefer to begin breaking-in your gift? I'm sure you've much catching up to do with the fallen girl wonder." Hermione kept her eyes down. She didn't want to influence the decision in either direction. Staying would be awful, getting to her high-grade pain faster would be awful too. She had no stake in this and so removed her hand from the table.

"My Lord, as much joy as such debasement of mudbloods gives me, I am still healing and find myself wearied of festivities. Given your blessing, I will retire for the evening. I thank you again, My Lord. You are most gracious." Hermione could see only that her master's skirts sank, bowing to His Lordship.

And suddenly a hand was grasping her chain, pulling her up to stand. Hermione shuddered as she passed through the bars, immaterial for a moment. Her master had style, not even bothering to open the cage to retrieve what was hers.

Hermione dropped to her knees when she came before His Lordship. Bellatrix bowed lightly once more; Voldemort's attention already gone from the pair, focused on the auction. Hermione rose again when her chain was pulled lightly.

Once in the hall, Bellatrix dropped the chain, knowing that Hermione would follow. This subservient wretch was still the smartest witch of her age. She knew better than to disobey.

"Do not speak until we reach my chambers." Bellatrix said. Hermione responded with an inclination of her head. Several dark halls later, a door with her master's initials stood before her. "Hold out your hand." Hermione did not hesitate to comply.

A dagger she didn't recognize seemed to materialize from thought, and she made no move to resist when the blade was pressed to her palm. Her sharp quiet inhale was the only indication that metal broke skin.

"Place your palm on the door." Bellatrix ordered. Hermione did as she was told. She felt something akin to sucking; the door itself absorbing and pulling from the wound. After a minute, Bellatrix pulled her hand from the door. "Tell me, pet, do you understand what just happened?"

"Yes, your door requires blood payment of all those who are permitted to enter. I believe the door would murder anyone who attempted to enter without your permission? The blood means I will be recognized and permitted entrance." Hermione explained.

"Have you read much about dark magic?" Bellatrix asked, opening the door and pressing her property forward, a hand resting on Hermione's hip.

"Yes, mistress." She didn't bother explaining that she tried to fight a war to defeat it, and as such, needed knowledge of what she was up against.

"You look good in leather. And in bars for that matter. But especially on your knees." Bellatrix spoke softly, trailing her sharp nails across Hermione's bare midriff. The slave didn't hesitate to drop onto her knees.

"Your curiosity shows in your eyes. Do you wonder why I do not look as I did when we first met?" Bellatrix asked, walking toward the bed, sitting on its edge.

"Yes, mistress. I do." Hermione answered. Her master sighed.

"You've read about what happens to those who do not make use of their magic? The build-up? The consequences? Even in Azkaban they forced a bit of magical use in order to avoid it. In my act of madness, I was never permitted a wand. And then the madness became real, physically manifested."

Hermione didn't answer.

"You may speak." Bellatrix prompted.

"You held in your magic for a decade and a half? To become a weapon?" Hermione asked.

"Yes. I helped win this war. And you are my spoils." Bellatrix said, eyes darkening. Hermione's breathing shallowed, heart quickening.

"Indeed I am. And even I believe that you've earned your dominance over me. I accept my place." The raven haired woman stood, crossing the room to tower over Hermione.

"And what place is that?" A smirk began to slide across the pureblood's lips. Hermione shivered at the sight. How could someone so evil be so attractive?

"Beneath you, mistress." She finally answered. Bellatrix chuckled darkly, grasping the chain and lifting the young slave to her feet.

"I've been waiting to hear you say that since you were sixteen, girl." Bellatrix spoke close to Hermione's ear, causing her skin to rise to gooseflesh. The chains disappeared. "I may have rid myself of madness, but do not think that makes your safe from harm. I am still your master and I'll do with you as I please."

Teeth clamped down on shoulder. Hermione arched into the pain, but didn't allow a sound to escape. She hadn't been given permission to. "Make noise, pet." Bellatrix demanded. "I will have your screams."

Sharp nails raked down spine and Hermione crooned out her pain. And Bellatrix loved it. Loved the reactions her new slave had to pain. Loved the way the girl felt beneath her fingers. Most of all, loved the way she felt in control. She hadn't had control in so long.

"Tell me pet, what do you want?" She wanted to hear her previous enemy ask for it. Bellatrix might even make her beg for the dominance she so obviously craved.

"I want... for you to take away my control. Even in slavery, I am controlling my temperament, controlling my movement, controlling my everything. More than when I was free, if one can call what I _had_ freedom. Take it from me. Use me." Hermione begged without being prompted to do so. And Bella. She just couldn't deny the appeal; the proud girl wanting so badly the oblivion of belonging to her. With a wave of hand, Hermione's wrists pulled up above her, held by an invisible force. She rose to her toes to get the weight off of her wrists.

Bellatrix admired the elongation of the young woman's body; skin pulled taut, ribs showing, calves flexed with the effort of holding herself up. Magnificent. She truly was the best of the bunch out there. "I noticed that there appears to be tension between you and the Weasley boy. The one who turned you in to save his family. Why is that?" Bellatrix asked, her hands on Hermione's hips, arms wrapped around her from behind. She laughed when Hermione's ass pressed into her pelvis. Eager thing, this one.

"He and I were involved once. I thought he would protect me. But he is a coward." Hermione spat. Bellatrix's eyes narrowed. On hand sliding downward, over Hermione's sex to trail along her thigh. She didn't miss the gasp earned as she brushed the girls most intimate place.

"Involved? Did he touch you this way?" Bellatrix demanded, dragging her fingers across leather covered flesh once more.

"No. He touched me as a fool would, not comparable to what you're doing." Hermione replied. The hand stopped.

"But he has had you this way." She hissed, pushing Hermione forward and walking around her, to look her in the eye.

"Once. Before your victory, mistress." Hermione confirmed, eyes cast down.

"Once. That's lucky for you. As you'll only need ten lashes to make me feel better about one time." And suddenly Hermione stood, nude, save for the collar around her neck.

She could feel leather straps being traced across her back. Teasingly soft. She attempted to prepare for the pain, but no mental preparation could account for the skill of her master's hand.

The first lash took the breath from her lungs, leaving her gasping. No sooner had she caught her breath, than the second blow landed in the same expanse of skin on her lower back. This time a scream tore from her lungs, filling the room with her pain.

Bellatrix smiled, truly smiled at the sound. "I told you I would have your screams." She teased. The next two lashes came in quick succession, one across each of her thighs, just below her ass. She could feel the disturbance in the air as the leather hit mere inches from her sex. It excited and terrified her.

The next four blows rained upon her back, crisscrossing. Hermione's body sagged, her weight pulling on her wrists. "Please... please..." The slave gasped, not truly knowing if she was begging her master to stop or never to stop. Bellatrix cared not what her pleading was for and by the final blow, Hermione was a whimpering, sweaty, and tear-covered mess.

She looked magnificent.

The hold on her wrists released, dropping her on the floor in a heap. After a moment, Hermione shifted her position into a low kneel. Ever the proper young miss.

Cool hands soothed her heated skin. "You did very well. I'm pleased. We can forget all about the ginger boy touching what is mine." Bellatrix cooed. Although, deep down, Hermione knew that it was ridiculous to be punished for something that happened before she belonged to Bellatrix, she was thankful. She kneeled lower to kiss her master's skirts.

"Thank you." She breathed. Bellatrix helped her to feet and led her to the bed. She sat down on its edge and lifted her foot. Hermione began undoing the laces, shifting the leather boot around her master's foot until it was loose enough to remove easily. She repeated the process with the other boot. She reached for the stockings covering slim legs, but a foot nudged her from them.

"Not yet." Hermione sat back on her heels, waiting for instruction. Her master stood, turning and scooping her own curls over her shoulder. "Undo my bodice." She said. Hermione rose and her fingers began picking at the laces, until her master's gown could fall from her frame.

The older witch held the dress to her front. Waiting to see the desire in Hermione's eyes. Blown pupils overtaking honeyed brown did not disappoint. She let the material fall, though it caught around her hips.

Hermione stared at the woman before her in awe. She had the smoothest pale skin, occasionally marred by scarring. All of the corsets did a wonderful job of hiding full breasts and a slim waist that widened into beautifully round hips.

"It's been years since anyone looked at me that way." Bellatrix said, rustling her skirt down over her hips. Hermione clenched her thighs as lace and garters came into view. So that was why she couldn't remove the stockings before. "You may touch, pet."

Hermione licked her lips, wanting to taste more than touch, but she hadn't been given permission. Bellatrix practically growled when Hermione's tongue peeked from between pink lips. The slave had the audacity to smirk in response.

"You're lucky that I have uses for that mouth tonight or I would break your jaw." Bellatrix threatened. Hermione looked up at her. "What is it? Speak."

"You won't regret leaving it intact, mistress. May I show you why?" One eyebrow rose in response to the request. Hermione thanked the goddess that her instincts were correct. Bellatrix enjoyed her cheekiness.

Hermione ran her fingers from Bellatrix's ankles to her thighs, grasping the flesh there and kneading it. She stood and lifted the older witch, pushing her backward onto the bed. Hermione climbed atop her master, careful not to touch her just yet, lips hovering just an inch from a pale expanse of skin.

"Why aren't you... continuing?" Bellatrix demanded, flustered. She hadn't expected this to go in such a way, but no one had made her feel this much like... a woman, in so long that she was prepared to indulge.

"You haven't given me permission to please you." Hermione explained.

"Are you attempting to gain the upper hand? I will not be reduced to asking you to please me. You will do what I ne- want, or I will hang you by your wrists and fuck you to the edge of completion and stop before you get there. All night." Hermione cocked her head to the side.

"That all sounds kind of fun, actually. Like something one should experience at least once in life. But perhaps another time." And with that she allowed her body to press flush against the woman beneath her, her lips caressing the dusky pink nipples before her.

Hermione couldn't say her experience with women was extensive. In fact, it ended with second base in the room of requirement with Penelope Clearwater, but that was neither here nor there. The way her master tangled fingers into her curls, and pulled her mouth more firmly to her breast excited her far more than any of the times Ron had insisted she 'just touch it.'

She laved her tongue around the nipple in tight circles until Bellatrix rewarded her with her first gasp. She felt the arching of the woman's back, seeking more contact and placed both hands on her waist, hesitantly searching for how far she could get away with pushing.

Hermione admired the stiff peak of Bella's nipple before giving the same attention to its counterpart. Finally the raven-haired witch moaned, grasping Hermione's hair and pulling her away.

"Remove the rest of my clothes." Bellatrix said, the demanding tone in her voice much less intimidating when light and breathy. Hermione moved slowly, undoing the stocking from one garter, then the next.

The soft fabric rolled easily down thighs and calves, exposing more scars and beauty. Hermione desperately wanted to feel aloof about her position; obedient, but unattached was the goal. Her grand ideas were being shot to hell with every breath and movement of the woman she now belonged to.

Her fingers trembled slightly as she hooked them into the only garment separating her from her master's heat. Bellatrix swallowed on a gasp; it wouldn't do to allow the slave a glimpse of her desire. She wasn't even aware of the way her hips lifted, encouraging Hermione to go faster.

Hermione relented, removing the lace with more purpose. Her breath caught and she hissed out approval. Never would she have imagined the pureblood warrior woman could desire her so fully. But the evidence was overwhelming... and dripping down to Bellatrix's thighs.

"Mistress, may I taste you?" Hermione asked reverently. Her lips ghosted across the soft flesh of an inner thigh. She didn't miss the quiet moan, nor did she acknowledge it. If Bellatrix needed to maintain her sense of control, she would play along with her master's wishes.

"Yes. Now." Bella gritted out. Her hands ran through the curls splayed out behind Hermione, and she pulled her mouth to where she most needed it. Those same hands fisted with the first brush of lips across her sex, and Hermione couldn't help the smile pulling the sides of her mouth.

Hermione didn't bother with hesitation. There would be plenty of time for coy and teasing games, lifelong servitude and all. And sure, she was a bit nervous. New territories as it were... but what skill may have been lacking was eagerly made up with enthusiasm.

Hermione placed her hands on Bellatrix's hips, anchoring her to the bed. She slid her tongue into the wetness between the older woman's thighs, gathering and spreading it up to her clit.

"Oh..." It fell quietly from gently parted lips. Hermione felt the sound travel downward, through her abdomen and between her own thighs. Circles and lines. And even the spelling of her name… her own covert claim over the woman she called mistress.

Bellatrix let her head fall back, exposing her neck. "More." She breathed, her voice may have lost its command to the pleasure occurring, but Hermione obeyed as if there was nothing she could do other than.

Two fingers slid into the body beneath her own. It took Hermione a moment to register the hiss as her own. She had only ever done this to herself, in the dark, alone. Bella was silk and warmth around her, she slid in and out slowly, reverently.

"I own you. You've been presented to me as a gift. You've been stripped of your clothes, your pride, your very identity. You are 109 now. And yet you fuck me as if I just took you out to a nice restaurant, and held your hand the entire time. It's laughable, mudblood." Bellatrix wanted her slave angry. Wanted her hard, fast, brutal. Not this.

Hermione's teeth scraped along the clit she'd previously been making love to, skirting on painful in her nibbling. Her eyes narrowed at the witch, seeing the sneer on that pretty face. She turned her knuckles a bit downward, sliding third finger in. She lifted herself to knees, lips never leaving the glistening skin before her.

Finally, her arm had the leverage she needed to piston in and out of her master. The change was immediate. The soft mewls replaced with frantic low-decibel moans, which shook through Hermione.

Over was the tentative exploration into her first experience with another woman. On some level she knew the other witch had wanted this exact reaction from her; she was playing right into her hands. But none of that could overpower the fury flooding into her blood.

She was going to be so much, before the war was lost. And she thought bitterly of each loss as she fucked rage into her master, reaching her lower knuckles with each inward push.

She was going to beat the record of highest grades for a graduate of Hogwarts. But not anymore. Teeth moved upward, biting viciously into a hipbone.

She was going to work in the Ministry, gain the power and position normally denied to muggle-born witches. She replaced her tongue with thumb, pressing down painfully hard.

She was going to have a family with Ron. Not that she was all that displeased with this not working out. But the thought of him turning her in infuriated her.

Her mouth made its way up Bella's body, leaving as many marks on pale skin as she could manage. Finally her teeth found one of those pretty nipples and bit down, drawing blood to the surface of sensitive skin.

Bellatrix's hand tightened painfully in her hair, pulling her mouth away. But she wouldn't relent, leveraging her weight and continuing her assault on the other breast. Suddenly Bellatrix stilled, her back arched and thighs closed around Hermione's arm.

Inner walls clenched hard enough to cause Hermione's hand considerable pain. Over and over she grasped and pulled nimble fingers in deeper. Hermione released the nipple in her mouth to watch her master's face contort in pleasure and pain. Her screams damn beautiful in their desperation. Sweat-soaked skin shining prettily in the dim light.

After what seemed an eternity, thighs unfolded, releasing Hermione from vice grip. Hermione noted the faint pink on her hand. Surely Bellatrix wasn't a virgin? She was married.

"Don't be daft, of course I'm not." Bellatrix chided. "You just... fucked me _that_ hard." She explained, wiping her brow. Hermione immediately threw walls up in her mind. She'd forgotten about that particular skill of Bella's. Her master merely smirked in response to her access being cut off.

"I-I'm sorry if I hurt you, mistress." Hermione said, looking at her hand. Bellatrix laughed cruelly. With a wave of her hand the blood disappeared from her sex and from Hermione's hand.

"I thought you were supposed to be smart? Why exactly do you think I said all of those cruel things? To cease that disgusting display of gentile touching. If ever at some point I want you to pretend you're fucking someone nice, who likes it soft, I will tell you. Until such a time, you will aim to draw blood or I will incite that anger in you every time." Hermione raised an eyebrow, waiting for permission to speak.

"What is it?" Bella asked.

"So I must hurt you, or you will hurt me?" Bellatrix's smirk did nothing to calm Hermione. The raven-haired witch rose to her knees, level with her slave. Fingers of a pale hand slid up the form before her, around to Hermione's back. The hand turned, nails digging in to run down her prize's skin.

"My dear pet, I do not require cause to hurt you. I will hurt you as I please." Those red lips spread into a full smile as Hermione grimaced. She recalled Bellatrix's warning. She was no longer suffering from madness, but that didn't make her safe. Indeed not.

Hermione lowered her eyes. She watched as two hands came to rest on her waist. Her back still ached from being lashed and now scratched. But the burn wasn't altogether unpleasant when paired with soft hands.

Bellatrix shifted her weight, pressing into the slave, pulling Hermione flush against her. Hermione watched as black irises fell to her lips. She'd wondered if being a slave meant she would never be kissed again and it was clear her master was torn. Hermione could only hope that her master wouldn't deny her this.

"You're a foolish girl." Bellatrix warned. Hermione didn't answer, only licked her lips. "Foolish..." Bella muttered quietly, lips a breath from Hermione's mouth. Hermione wanted to close the distance, or beg her master to do so, but knew better than to disobey.

"Speak." Bellatrix said, lips ghosting over Hermione's. Hermione inhaled, taking her in.

"If I'm already a fool, kiss me. Please." Honey eyes pleaded, desire evident. Bellatrix dragged her mouth lightly across Hermione's, moving to trail her lips and teeth up jawline.

"Why?" Hermione let her head fall to the side, exposing more of her neck to Bella's mouth.

"Because, you're right. I am a foolish girl. I want intimacy where ownership lives. I'll beg if that's what you want. Just tell me what it takes." Bellatrix smirks against olive skin.

"You have nothing to barter with. I own you. I can take everything I want from you." She teases, hands sliding from waist to the young woman's ass. "But I'll tell you what..." Hermione feels her hips being manipulated, forced to roll against Bellatrix's thigh. She moans before she can bite it back. Teeth scrape along her neck and suddenly those lips are just out of reach again. "Since you've been so good—"

Hermione moans against pillow soft lips, cantering her hips in time with Bella's pace. Her hands reach up into inky curls, deepening the kiss, knowing that she will be punished for it, not caring. Bellatrix decided to allow it, finding the desperation intoxicating.

Hermione reveled in her small victory. She would take them where she could get them. She felt her master's hands grasp at the flesh of her ass and moaned into her mouth. It wasn't until a probing finger slid down the middle, that Hermione's eyes opened and she made to pull away. Bella didn't allow this. She would have her slave's compliance, no matter the girl's reservations.

"I thought you'd do whatever it took for a kiss? This is my price, to have you the way no one ever has." Bellatrix smirked at the woman's thoroughly scandalized expression. "Speak." She said, laughing.

"Will it hurt?" Hermione asked. This only made Bella laugh harder.

"You're not going to beg me not to?" She asked.

"It wouldn't make any difference. You'll take what you want." Hermione rationalized. And it did sound like she was trying to convince herself.

"That's true." Bellatrix pulled the slave close again. "And it will only hurt if you give me a reason to want to hurt you." She explained. Hermione was hesitant to believe her.

"How... how do you want me?" Hermione asked. Bellatrix smirked, pressing forward. The brunette landed on her back, her master following.

"Long time since I had you splayed out beneath me." Bellatrix said against Hermione's ear, low, taunting. She felt the slave squirm beneath her. "But something is missing..." She says, throwing her hand out. The glint of steel caught Hermione's gaze. Fear crossed eyes, that shortly after went blank and closed.

Bellatrix didn't feel the need to assuage her fears. It wasn't a dagger she held, but that was unimportant at the moment. The body beneath her own shuddered, as cold metal travelled down the valley between breasts and ribs, over navel and between thighs. Bellatrix slid the cold metal cock between the younger woman's folds, warming it to body temperature, getting it slick.

Hermione's eyes opened, registering she was not going to be hurt. Her sex flooded at the feel of what her master held. The rounded end slipped across Hermione's clit; her hips rolled upward, seeking more of that contact.

"Ask for it." Bellatrix demanded.

"Please, mistress. Fuck me." Bella smirked, slipping into her slave just an inch, before pulling back out. Hermione groaned in frustration.

"Hush pet." Bella admonished. The forefinger of her left hand swam through Hermione's arousal. The girl pitched forward, trying to hold the hand there.

"Eager?" Bella teased, smirking at her slave. She slipped her fingers over engorged clit again, marveling at the sounds such a simple touch evoked.

"Please..." Hermione begged again. Bellatrix smirked, slipping the cock deep into Hermione. She left it there, turning her attention to the pert breasts before her. She traced the arousal on her fingers around both nipples, before wrapping her lips around each one in turn, tasting the girl.

Bella slipped those same fingers into Hermione's mouth, moaning as her pet sucked on them, tasting herself. With a wave of her hand, the cock began thrusting on its own, in time with Hermione's mouth on her fingers. It was then, while the girl was already distracted, that Bellatrix reached down with her right hand and gathered wetness from the thrusting cock. Hermione already so blissed-out on finally getting fucked, that Bellatrix easily slipped into virgin territory. Hermione's eyes opened in shock, before she moaned, sending vibrations through Bella's fingers.

Yes, she had been with Ron once before, but this... she never knew it could be like this. Full to bursting, too much sensory input to process, to care. Her body moved with Bellatrix, everything contrasting friction, everything full.

"Suck faster." Bellatrix said, almost sounding bored. The demand itself had Hermione close to coming. And as she complied, the steel between her thighs sped up and Bella slid a second finger in, stretching Hermione, finding her limits.

Honeyed eyes rolled backward and back arched as Hermione came, and came hard. Wave after wave had her sucking harder and the cock refused to relent. Bella kept her that way, coming and coming, until she feared for the girl's sanity and she pulled her fingers from warm mouth. The scream that followed nearly brought Bellatrix to orgasm.

"Just one more." Bellatrix said softly, soothingly.

"I can't!" Hermione cried, trying to pull away from her master. Bella never stopped her thrusts.

"You can. It's just one more." Bellatrix insisted. "I want you to see how much you're enjoying this." Black eyes fell to still thrusting fingers, buried where Hermione once feared them.

Hermione trapped her lower lip between teeth and nodded her consent. Bella slowed her movements and slipped her thumb gently over Hermione's clit in small circles. It wasn't long before Hermione began responding to the gentle touch, gasping and thrusting.

Bellatrix sensed her orgasm nearing and kissed the woman beneath her. She kissed her through the duration and slipped from her worn out body. Hermione reached for her and held on.

"Did you like it?" Bellatrix prompted sweetly. Hermione smiled up at her master, curling into her and nuzzling the crook of her neck.

"It was like nothing I've ever imagined. Amazing." Hermione whispered.

"Good pet, good." Bella allowed the woman to fall asleep that way. She smirked, satisfied, as she covered her new pet with a comforter.

If the girl hadn't been entirely hers at the start of the night... She was irrevocably so now.

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